51J5 KeNSINGTON APRIL, 1904 M R. SMITH got off the trolley and turned down Kensington A v- enue. Under one arm he car- ried a box of Peter Oaks' candy and the evening paper. He walked more quickly than usual, and his lips moved as he talked silently to himself. He ran up the cement steps to the terraced lawn of his home and waited a few minutes before he went up the wooden steps that led to the front porch. He stood fumbling with his key ring, then, pick- ing out the key to the front door, he stared at it and ran his fingers along its smooth, worn surface. He had been opening the fron t door with it for almost twenty-one years. There was no one in the hall as he entered. The top of the piano was piled high with music and there was a jar- dinière filled with pussy willows on the hall table. Although the door that led into the back hall was shut, he could hear his wife and Katie moving about in the kitchen, brisk and efficient. He wondered what they would do about Katie. "Anna!" he calJed. He took off his coat and hat and laid them across the piano stool. The door to the back hall opened and Mrs. Smith hurried out. "Good- ness, Lonnie! " she said. "You startled me." She looked at the candy box under his arm and said, "M ore can- dy!" He handed the box to her without speaking and, putting his arm around her waist, walked with her into the liv- ing room. "Where are the girls?" he asked. Mrs. Smith stared at him. "What's the matter?" she asked. "How should I know where the girls are?" "Well, I just wanted to talk to you alone for a minute," he answered. He sat down in a chair by the mantelpiece and sighed. "Now, Anna," he said, "don't fly up in the air. There's noth- ing to lose your head over. I know it will be a lot of work for you and a lot of upset. But in the end it will be the wise thing." "What will be the wise thing?" IVlrs. Smith asked. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, see here, Lonnie, I'm as calm as a cucumber. And you're shaking like I don't know what." He held out his hand and she took it. "Well, I haven't mentioned it be- fore," he said, "but there's been some talk downtown lately about sending me to New York. And today it was de- cIded that they would send me." Mrs. Smith laughed. "Well, we can live without you for a while," she said, patting his hand. "Only I hope you won't have to stay so long that you'll miss the opening of the World's Fair." Mr. Smith held her hand tightly. "You don't understand," he said. "I mean they're sending me to New York for good. To be the head of the New York office." "1 don't believe it!" Mrs. Smith said. She stood back and looked at him, all expression gone from her. face. "I simply don't believe it. I think you must have lost your mind." "It's true," he said, and there was pride in his voice. "They were think- ing about sending Duffy, but they thought he wasn't reliable enough." He began talking hurriedly. "I'm to start a week from Saturday, and I'd like it if you and the girls would follow as soon as you can." "New York," Mrs. Smith said slow- ly. "New York. Why, New York is a big city. Not that St. Louis isn't big. It just doesn't seem big out here where we live. But New York! Why, what will the children do?" "The same as they do here," he said. "Go to school, play, and have their friends over." "What friends?" she asked. "The friends they make at school," he answered. "Rose is graduating this year," Mrs. Smith said. "Agnes is doing so well and ---- - ---- -- ---- --- ----===- ----===- ------ ---- ------ ------ ,;::Ç 17 sure to be promoted. Esther will be a senior. She's been dying to be a senior. And Tootie!" "Tootie should have been in school this year," Mr. Smith said defiantly. "And would have been, too, if you hadn't carried on so about her being the baby. She'll have to start school some- . k " tIme, you now. "Naturally, I do know," Mrs. Smith said. "But what did she learn that half-day we sent her to kindergar- ten? The children in that kindergarten couldn't even read. Tootie told me so. You know yourself that you thought it was pretty foolish to have her run- ning around pretending to be a squir- rel and singing that song about stor- ing nuts away. Tootie's too smart for that. " " T ., f h ootle s too smart or er own good," Mr. Smith said. "She needs to have someone over her who'll put his foot down." "Well, she ran right through the books Agnes had in the first grade in about a week. She said the print was too big and were the children all blind," Mrs. Smith said. "There's no use talking," Mr. Smith said. "There it is. We're going to have to move." "And what are you getting out of it that vou're so willing to move us lock, stock, and barrel to a perfectly strange place?" Mrs. Smith asked. "Now, listen, Anna," he said. "I've got the future to think about. Lon's in college. Next year, Esther will be ready for college. Rose has some damned notion about a finishing school. Tootie and Agnes will be in private schools. And I don't know how you've got it